It’s like Christmas up in here!
Or Hanukkah. Or Kwanzaa. At any rate, put on your party beanie and crack open the Cristal because this past Wednesday my physical music (and a variety of other items like furniture, books and computers) arrived in Deutschland. Customs cleared everything, it has been un-boxed and is now ready to be dusted off and nestled in its proper place. Something is brewing, however, and the excitement is palpable. It is time for the official merging of two gigantic music collections.
From the moment we met, my partner and I have been completely transparent when it comes to our taste and feelings about music. It is the nucleus of our existences. “Our” music makes everything beautiful in life even better and the shitty bits a little less miserable. Aside from the bounty of records and CDs we accumulated while sharing time and space in America (which is astonishingly huge), my physical collection was stored in countless suitcases, never unpacked from my previous move – a travesty, I know. His was tucked away in Germany while he worked in the US.
Over the last three years we shared our enormous digital collections with one another. As everyone knows, much is bygone and skipped while shuffling through files in search of a specific artist/band/track. Album art, the musty smell of old sleeves and the clacking of CD cases can, unintentionally, become a second thought. Never forgotten, such important things can sometimes take a back seat. I can admit it, though I believe those days are over.
Until we settle on how we will actually arrange our Über collection, make Benno equations and draw up shelving plans, I have time for rummaging. Over the last days I’ve been reminded (again) of the simple pop perfection of gems like Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me and Sounds from the Gulf Stream. On the other hand, I’ve attempted to recall what kind of tropical fever delirium I was stricken with while purchasing something like The Jethro Tull Christmas Album.
During a wine fueled Saturday evening of SingStar a few weeks ago, a fellow collector and friend jokingly asked if he could be present to witness the monumental consolidation event. We all chuckled and continued to pass the mic. Seriously though? This seemingly pleasant endeavor is deceptively arduous and time consuming…and I am still only thinking about it. For one, silly rules like all CDs being in their correct cases will come into order. Blimey. If we were smart, we’d sell tickets.
[Abby’s Road is a Knox Road feature published every other Friday.]